a pebble

When my husband was sick, I was the sole caretaker. I did have friends’ help. But, most of the time, I tried to do it alone.
I tried. I tried, tried and tried to be okay.
I think that I was in a denial a bit. I did not believe that I was going through a terrible time or did not fully accept the idea of him dying at the end.
When his breathing ceased, a big wave of emotion hit me hard and shocked me. I thought I had prepared myself.
I started to have anxiety attacks, which I had never had before. Sometimes, the dark cloud sat in my head and heart, and I did not even feel like doing anything about it.
I still tried to be okay in front of friends and family.
Then, one night, I happened to watch a TV program on PBS channel about “Half the Sky,” and something inside me clicked.
“I can do this. I have to overcome this.”
Watching somebody else conquering much harder obstacles made me think that I should be able to go through my hardship. It might sound selfish, and it is. But, it made me look at the recycle bin that accumulated four empty wine bottles in two weeks, and at the fact that I might need help.
I decided to attend the group counseling for the bereaved.
Being among other survivors and sharing our feelings helped. I felt validated. What I was going through, what I was feeling and the loneliness were all shared by others, and I was assured that it was okay to feel and be that way. I understood that I was helping others by asking for help and that none of us could live alone.

I still am not comfortable about asking for help. I take care of things by myself before thinking about getting some assistance. It’s not you; it’s me.
If only I had the courage to ask for help…

 

p.s. Throughout our marriage, I thought I was the rock in our relationship. I wasn’t. It does take two.

 

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “I Am a Rock.”
“Is it easy for you to ask for help when you need it, or do you prefer to rely only on yourself? Why?”